


After So Long (Need it Now)

by MoMoMomma



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Desperation, Gratuitous Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: He’s been away from the Nexus for almost two months, trying to settle things on Voeld and Kadara. Running here, there and everywhere trying to be the Pathfinder everyone wants him to be. Considering he’s a hair trigger away from snapping at Suvi at this point? He’s past a simple feeling of “Huh. I hope I get to have sex soon.”





	After So Long (Need it Now)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebaby01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebaby01/gifts).



> Major thanks to the lovely commissioner who asked for this self-indulgent bit of smut! I hope you enjoy <3

There is a difference, Scott knows, between wanting to get fucked and wanting to get _fucked_. He’s old enough that he’s learned this difference pretty well, learned to differentiate between the itch under his skin that has him shifting in place, antsy and wound up, and the clawing ache that has him unable to sleep, cock hard between his thighs and fingers ripping the sheets off the bed.

He’s been away from the Nexus for almost two months, trying to settle things on Voeld and Kadara. Running here, there and everywhere trying to be the Pathfinder everyone wants him to be. 

Considering he’s a hair trigger away from snapping at _Suvi_ at this point? He’s past a simple feeling of “Huh. I hope I get to have sex soon.”

Lexi has the audacity to _laugh_ at him when they dock, murmuring something as he shoulders past Liam and Cora to stomp his way onto the Nexus proper. He can’t hear what it is exactly--something, something, in his office--but it doesn’t really matter at this point. Because he’s so close after he’s been so far away for too long. 

Getting to the Med Bay is a fucking process in and of itself. Scott pastes on a tight smile for everyone that stops him, congratulating him on something or another. He doesn’t linger, calling thanks over his shoulder or nodding quickly and edging away until they realize his escape attempts aren’t going to stop and wrap the conversation up. Even Keri seems to pick up on it, calling to grab his attention before double-taking at his expression and laughing with an almost sheepish “come to see me later, okay?”

The Medbay isn’t particularly busy when he steps inside, head swinging around until one of the nurses catches his elbow and points him to a far corner. Harry’s messing with some piece of equipment Scott can only guess the purpose of, though he looks up at Scott’s too loud footsteps.

“Scott.” He greets warmly, standing from his crouch only to narrow his eyes at him. “You feeling alright?”

“Not really.” He can’t quite seem to stand still, shifting from foot to foot, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Can I--are you off soon?”

Harry makes a small noise--understanding, maybe--and his gaze goes hot in a second as it sweeps over his body. Scott shivers under the attention, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as Harry glances around before stepping in close. Closer than a doctor should be with the Pathfinder, but not nearly close enough for the pounding beat of Scott’s heart in his chest. 

“Go ahead and head to my room. Let me finish up a few things. You know how I want you to wait for me.”

Scott bobs his head so fast it nearly gives him vertigo. He spins in place, dodging patients and nurses alike as he heads out. It’s difficult to keep the pace once he’s out in the hall, cock already thick behind his zipper until he’s pulling his shirt down to try and hide it, but he manages. 

Barely, but he does. 

There’s a quiet moment of peace once Harry’s door shuts behind him, where all the anticipation settles for a moment now that he’s so close to the prize. Scott sags against the door for a moment, curves a hand over his cock, grinds his palm down for a burst of sweet pleasure that doesn’t come close to being enough. His hands shake as he works his shirt over his head, tossing it aside as he kicks out of his shoes. 

The bed is a siren call he can’t resist, rumpled sheets like Harry hadn’t even had time to straighten them before rushing out the door. Scott crawls onto it, leaving his pants in a heap at the end, and lets his body sink into the plush of the mattress. He buries his face in a pillow that smells vaguely like Harry’s cologne and shampoo, hands fisting as his hips push down almost without thought. 

It’s nice, a slow burn up his spine that only serves to abate the need for a split second before it comes back worse. Scott pushes himself up onto shaky knees, reaching over to fumble in the bedside table drawer before trembling fingers close around the bottle of lube. It’s not as full as it was last time and Scott stares down at it with something close to sirens in the back of his mind as he remembers the why. 

He’d called Harry halfway between Kadara and Voeld, scooted up so close to the vid-screen he’d almost given himself a headache. Watched with an open mouth and his hand around his cock as Harry worked himself over for him, hand shiny with lube and pre-come, sliding over his length as he groaned how much he missed him, how much he wanted him there right now. 

Scott will put up with a hundred protests about how Harry’s “getting too old for this shit” if it means he gets that every now and again. 

He’s still shaky when he shoves his briefs down his thighs, not even bothering to take them off before popping the cap open. The lube is cold on his fingers when he drizzles it over them but he doesn’t hesitate, lowering his shoulders to the bed to reach back. The first brush makes him shudder, a moan muffled in the pillows as he sinks one finger inside. 

He’s tight. It’s been a while since he’s even had the time to do this much, split himself open on fingers that are never as good as Harry’s cock, and he relishes in the burn and the shake of his thighs as he turns one finger into two too fast. He’s never as gentle with himself as Harry is, but he doesn’t _want_ gentle right now. Wants to feel it for days, an ache in his lower back as he lounges around this very room, distracting Harry from his duties and ignoring his own in the process. 

Scott didn’t think--almost a year ago when this first thing started, when Harry finally got fed up with his heated looks and clumsy flirting to yank him into a darkened corner and pull him into a kiss with a muttered “should just bend you over right here”--he’d wind up needing it this badly. He’s never needed any of his previous lovers the way he needs Harry, needs the experienced touch of his hands and the way he doesn’t let Scott out of bed until he’s fairly certain his legs won’t even hold his weight. 

He’s three fingers deep by the time the door whooshes open, free hand a loose circle to thrust his hips into. It’s not enough, not ever nearly enough, and he’s whining before he even hears the footsteps make their way towards him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Harry breathes, Scott twisting his head to look up and back when a palm lands softly on his lower back. “You are _desperate_ for it, huh?”

“Please.” Everything is too much and not enough, a rush in his ears and his blood with the solution so close. “I need-- _please_.”

Harry shushes him, quiet and controlled as always, tugging gently on his wrist until Scott slips his fingers free with a broken sort of moan. He presses Scott’s hand, still shiny with lube, against the covers, a silent command that Scott copies with the hand that had been working his cock, though the lack of touch instantly makes everything worse. 

He’s mumbling something, desperate words and pleas falling that he can’t hear past the sound of his heartbeat, and Harry mumbles little platitudes as he scoops up the discarded lube from the bed. Scott fists the covers under his hands the second two fingers, thicker than his, _longer_ than his, press in where he’s wet and open for it. 

“I don’t need--I’m ready.”

“Maybe.” Harry agrees, voice too even, controlled when Scott is decidedly not. “But I like making sure. Like watching you open up for me.”

“Harry, _please_.”

“A little while longer won’t kill you.”

“It _might_.” Scott snaps, before losing all his breath and words in a gasp when Harry slips another finger in and _curls_ them. 

He’s always right on the mark, finding and pressing down on Scott’s prostate until he’s thrashing underneath him. This isn’t any different, lightning behind closed eyes as Scott babbles and tries to arch into the firm pressure. Harry _laughs_ off to his side like he’s amused by the scene Scott’s sure he makes. 

“ _Harry!_ ”

“I’ve got you.” So confident, even now, enough that it makes something in his chest go tight. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

Scott tenses up when he feels the bed shift, when Harry nudges his thighs to open wider, one hand on his hip. He can’t help it, anticipation at what he wants so close to his grasp after so long, twisting his head until he can just barely see Harry kneeling behind him. 

“No more teasing. Please just--I need it.”

“I know, I know.” Harry can drag it out if he wants, has done it before. Waited until Scott was biting down into the pillows to muffle his screams as he was brought to the edge and denied for the umpteenth time. 

He can’t do that now. Scott won’t survive it.

Thankfully, Harry’s either just as desperate as he is or is taking pity on him. There’s the gentle clink of a belt buckle falling open, Harry’s fingers disappearing moments before the thick head of his cock nudges in close. Scott lets his mouth drop open, moans tumbling free, nearly eclipsing Harry’s soft sigh at the first gentle thrust. It never matters how desperate he is, how much he begs and pleads for hard, rough, fast, _now_. 

Harry always takes his time. Treats him like he’s precious. It’s almost too much and never quite enough on days like today. 

“Relax, easy now,” Harry mumbles under his breath, one hand on his hip and the other smoothing it’s way up his spine. “I’ve got you, honey.”

Scott closes his eyes, rubs his head against the pillow like a cat, arches his ass up into the insistent and patient rolls of Harry’s hips. Never demanding, not taking more than he’s ready to give, but persistent and continuous. Years and years of self-imposed control that even Scott’s most desperate pleas can’t break.

Not that he doesn’t try.

“C’mon, I can take it.” He slurs, mouth feeling too swollen, lips sore from the constant bite of his teeth. “Jus’ fuck me. I want it.”

“I know you do. I know, and I’ll give it to you. But I won’t hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Scott assures him, pressing back as much as Harry’s grip on his hip will allow, the next thrust going deep enough to crack his words on a soft whine. “Oh god, you won’t. Just--I need you.”

Harry doesn’t snap like other lovers have. Acquiesce to his begging and pretty words with a thrust so hard it rattles his brain in his skull. He chuckles, laughter soft and not mocking, pressing Scott’s shoulders down with a palm flat between them and simply quickening his pace. 

It’s still enough to steal the breath from his lungs. Have him yanking and pulling at the covers until they’re damp with the sweat on his palms, until they threaten to come off the corners. Harry isn’t brutal or forceful but he’s always so _insistent_. Doesn’t let Scott have the time to recover, to settle from the ever-tightening ball that forms low in his gut. 

He doesn’t shove Scott to the edge in the blink of an eye like others have, but instead pulls him there, not allowing him any time to back off or stop the slide. 

“Harry, _please_.”

“You’re so needy for it,” Harry says softly, a touch of something close to a growl in his voice. “Did I let you go too long without, sweetheart? Did you feel neglected?”

“It wasn’t enough. I tried and it wasn’t--”

“Of course it wasn’t.” Harry yanks him back into the next thrust, enough that Scott’s back bows and he cries out into the pillow. “It wasn’t me. It’s never going to be as good as when it’s me, is it? Your hands aren’t ever going to be enough.”

Scott says something, something he’s not even aware of. Something he can’t make out over the lewd sound of Harry sliding home again and again. Over the squelch of lube and the barest hint of a groan he knows isn’t his. He’s been suffering, left alone because his job demands it, but so has Harry. 

“I know you--know you missed me.” He pants out, turning his head, catching the barest curve of a smile on Harry’s lips.

“I absolutely missed you, brat. Such a good boy for me, how could I not? You think I could ever find something better?”

Scott shakes his head, a vehement no he doesn’t have the breath to vocalize, and Harry rewards him with a pace so quick it has him going boneless. A slump of flesh under Harry, open and accepting every single harsh and fast thrust. He can’t even close his mouth, one endless string of sounds falling free, partially muffled by the pillows and covers. Whines and moans and pleas that don’t go unnoticed, if Harry’s gritted teeth snarl of his name is any indication. It’s less controlled now, but Scott can’t even think to complain about the uneven thrusts, the off-key rhythm. 

Not when Harry’s chanting his name like a mantra and finally, _finally_ as rough as Scott wants. Nails biting into his hip so deeply Scott will be able to trace the marks tomorrow, barely pulling out before grinding back inside. He knows the split second Harry comes, an explosive sort of pained exhale before the heavy weight of his body curves down over his back. 

Scott’s panting, cock so hard between his thighs it’s pulsing alongside his heartbeat and dripping onto the sheets below. He isn’t done, can’t be done, and Harry seems to know it. Levers himself back up as soon as he’s stopped shaking, as soon as his hips have stopped their reflexive little thrusts inside, like even once he’s come he still wants to stay where he is. 

He makes a soft noise when Harry pulls out, one hand unclenching from the sheets to reach back with aching fingers, held in claws for too long. Harry shushes him, mutters something calming that doesn’t help in the slightest, before firm hands turn him onto his back, finally stripping his briefs off to toss them aside. Scott lets his thighs fall open, wide enough the stretch hurts and feels good all the in the same moments, hands greedy grasping up to pull Harry in between them.

The kiss is just as sweet as it always is, something hungry still there as Harry slips three fingers back inside his hole, stretched and slick. It’s not nearly enough, not when he had Harry’s cock inside just moments ago, but it’s enough that Scott’s arching and trying to work down on them regardless. Whining into Harry’s mouth and scratching at his shoulders, still needy, lifting his hips like an offering. 

One that Harry takes eagerly. Slips away from his mouth with a smile at Scott’s immediate pout, trailing kisses down his chest and stomach. There’s a flash of eyes so green they almost look golden in the low light of the room, amused and confident and affectionate, before Harry’s mouth opens around his cock. Takes him just deep enough Scott can feel the squeeze of muscles against the head, his hand pinning Scott’s hips to the bed when they try to lift into the sensation. 

“Oh my god,” he can’t stop from grasping at Harry’s shirt, yanking and tugging on the fabric as he writhes. “I’m gonna--yes, _yes_.”

It doesn’t take long, embarrassingly enough. Not when he’s so close already, pressed to the edge by Harry’s cock and the intensity of getting what he wanted after so long. Scott buries his fingers in Harry’s hair when he comes, holds him in place, shakes apart with broken cries of the older man’s name. He has to peel his hands away in the aftermath, still shuddering, Harry shushing his cries when he carefully and slowly slips his fingers free.

Scott twists into his body when Harry all but collapses beside him on the bed, one leg slung over his hips, the buckle on his belt biting into his thigh. Harry’s nearly fully clothed, just his pants undone and shoved down out of the way. A stark comparison to Scott’s completely naked form. 

Seems like they were both desperate in their own way. 

“That was...well. Feeling better, Pathfinder?”

Scott hums, eyes already slipping closed, nuzzling into Harry’s chest and more firmly up under his chin. There’s a palm on his back, sweeping up and down in a calming metronome.

“How long are you docked for?”

“Dunno,” Scott answers around a yawn. “Can ask. Later, though.”

“Hopefully a little longer than a few hours this time.”

Scott hums his agreement. The last time they’d been here, he and Harry had barely had time to slip away for rushed handjobs before the intercom was dinging above them and commanding him back aboard. He isn’t actually sure how long they’ll need to dock this time but he’s sure he could stretch it out, ask Gil to make sure something goes “wrong” and buys him an extra day or so, at least.

He’s been a good Pathfinder. He deserves his reward.

“You are useless after sex, you know that?” Harry snorts, a brief kiss pressed to the top of his head. “Still too young to keep your brains in your head.”

“It was really good sex, though.”

“I’ll take that.” Harry laughs before stretching to tap against something that makes the lights dim, the room settling into a comfortable darkness. “I can’t stay for too long, have a few patients I need to check in with. But I’ll come back once my shift is over.”

“Right now?” Scott whines immediately, fisting up Harry’s shirt as he laughs, indulgent and fond, one hand curving over Scott’s. 

“Not immediately. I’ve got time to make sure I didn’t fuck your brain out. Let you get some rest at least.”

“M’gonna stay here. Tell the crew I’m deathly sick and they can’t come near me.”

“Are you asking me to lie to people, Pathfinder?”

“Yes.” Scott nods, yawns so hard his ears pop, feels more than hears Harry’s chuckles.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. If this was any indication, you’re gonna need it for when I’m off shift. You’re never quite satisfied with one good fuck when you’re that desperate.”

He’s right. Scott’s sated for the moment, achy in the best sort of way, but he’s not going to stay like that for long. By the time Harry gets off, he’ll probably come back to find Scott right where he left him, fingers buried inside the mess he can feel between his thighs, cock already hard again.

One of the perks of being young, he guesses. 

“You always take care of me.”

“I do.” Harry agrees softly, a firmer kiss to the top of his head this time. “Someone has to. Sleep, Scott. You need it.”

In reality? All he needs is this, cuddled close to his lover, exhausted in the aftermath, relaxing and readying himself for round two and however many rounds might come afterward. 

But sleep sounds good. Especially sleep with Harry’s chest rising and falling under his head, with calloused fingers still stroking up and down his spine. 

Funny, really. His whole job is to go out looking for places to survive, places to thrive in this new world. Odd and so amusing that he found a home in a person...not a place. Found himself a soft place to land, a homing beacon, in soft eyes and a stern voice and someone he’s known for so long that he knows it occasionally makes Harry flinch if he looks at him for too long. 

Pathfinder, indeed.


End file.
